


Don't Blink

by Velszt



Category: Dishonored (Video Games), Parahumans Series - Wildbow
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-04-04
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-04-18 13:16:20
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Major Character Death
Chapters: 3
Words: 10,832
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14213955
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Velszt/pseuds/Velszt
Summary: When Taylor has her trigger vision, she sees something abnormal: a gaunt man, in a well-tailored suit, with a pair of entirely black eyes. Later, rather than the power to control bugs, she finds she has a number of magical abilities that don't seem to quite work the way most other powers do.





	1. Far Reach 1.1

I was drowning in rot. On every side of me, pressing in, was blood and shit and garbage. Maggots squirmed in the waste, crawling on my arms and legs and stomach, under my clothes and on my skin. A cloud of flies buzzed around my head. The smell was vile and sickening. I had already vomited, twice, and it was all over me now. I was swimming in it.

I screamed and kicked and thrashed, trying to escape, but I was trapped. The walls of the locker were narrowing, squeezing out more blood onto me, soaking my clothes, getting under my fingernails, in my mouth. I was drenched in it. So claustrophobic, so sick, so exhausted. There was almost no light, but I wouldn’t want to see anyway.

On the other side of the locker, there was a laugh. An ugly, smug, triumphant laugh. Something slammed into the locker door from the other side, and all the walls trembled. My ears were ringing. My vision swam. The laugh continued, filled with hatred and disgust and condescension. My stomach churned. My eyes were wet. I couldn’t breathe.

I knew that laugh. Sophia. Sophia Hess. She had done this to me, locked me in here. Left me to die.

I wouldn’t ever forget that laugh. I w--

_Two great beings floated soundlessly through the void, circling around one another as they went. Tiny lights like shards of glass split off their bodies and fell like stars. I watched from an outcropping of dark stone, floating in the vast expanse. It was cold, not the cold of wind and ice, but the cold of the bottom of the ocean, where no warmth can reach._

_A man with black eyes stood in front of me, what might have almost been a smile playing across his face. “Taylor Hebert. I’ve taken an interest in you._

_“I didn’t know what to expect when I came to this world, but I’ve been pleased so far. I’ve seen entire rooms of people cut down with the wave of a hand. I’ve seen the life strangled out of a man from a hundred feet away. I’ve seen a woman’s body turned into a biological machine, with her alive and screaming as she was taken apart and reassembled. And I’ve seen what was done to you. What will you do, Taylor? What will you do when you have the power to fight back?”_

_Then the back of my hand burned with the most intense agony I had ever felt, and my head split open, and I screamed._

# \---

I was lying in bed at home, drenched in sweat and panting like I’d just run a marathon. I sat up and flicked on the light on my bedstand, trying to remember my nightmare, but it was slipping away, leaving only the barest fragments of memory. Sophia. The black-eyed man. Emptiness. Just like every night since the locker. Since I got my powers.

Water. I needed water. A half empty glass sat on my desk, out of my reach. Exhausted, I lifted my left hand and _reached_ , then _pulled._ The glass flew towards me, and I caught it out of the air without spilling it.

I had spent the past few months practicing with my powers in secret, and had a pretty good understanding of them by now. Using my hands, I could attach some sort of energy to a nearby target and then pull. Heavier objects I could use as leverage, moving quickly from place to place or vaulting off them. Lighter objects would be pulled towards me. It was like a magnetic force, but a little bit looser.

Along with this power came a noticeable increase in my physical capabilities. I was stronger, faster, more coordinated. I could jump almost five feet in the air, and the more I practiced the higher I was able to go. I also had an awareness of my surroundings that was almost scary; like I was just able to sense when anyone was within about a twenty-foot radius around me.

And then… there was the mark.

I put my water down to get a look at my hand. There, on the back of it, was a dark black symbol; half-circles and jagged lines. If you squinted it looked like an eye. I had found it on me the day after the locker, and it hadn’t gone away. If anyone asked, I could pass it off as a tattoo, but I tried to keep anyone from getting too good of a look at it. My dad hadn’t noticed. He didn’t notice much about me, really. I should probably consider it a blessing. If he thought I had gotten a tattoo without asking him he’d be furious, and it wasn’t like I could tell him the truth.

A little shiver ran through me as I clenched my hand into a fist, briefly feeling the mark burn hot on the back of my hand.

It was Saturday morning, 5:42 AM. Tonight I would be going out in costume for the first time. 

# \---

With very little money, and next to no knowledge of sewing or fashion design, I had to make do with what I had for my costume: a black hoodie over a purple t-shirt, loose black athletic pants, black gloves, tennis shoes, and a light backpack. I pulled my hair behind my head in a tight bun and covered my face with a balaclava and a black-and-purple-striped beanie and tied a length of elastic to both ends of my glasses to keep them from falling off. Tucked in an inside pocket of my jacket, I had a switchblade that I only sort of knew how to use, and in my pack was a first-aid kit, a spare sweatshirt, a bottle of water, and a map of the city.

It was a light outfit, without much in the way of protection, but it provided freedom of movement and no one would be able to recognize me. I didn’t look threatening, exactly, but I had seen rookie capes with much worse outfits. I wasn’t trying for something special and overreaching. With any luck, once I was able to make some money I’d be able to get something that was a bit higher-quality, but for now it would have to do.

I waited until about 10 PM, when it was dark out and my dad had fallen asleep on the downstairs couch with the news on, then opened my window and crawled out onto the sill. My heart was pounding-- with nervousness? With excitement? I carefully reached out my left hand and pointed it at the roof of the next door building, then pulled. I was yanked upward, sailing through the air, and I landed silently.

I could do this.

I went southeast, along the rooftops. I ran, as silently as I could, and leapt from building to building, my power dragging me along. If I tried to use it too often within a given timespan I’d run out of juice, but the few seconds between jumps were long enough to recharge. I had picked up some tricks from my months of practice, too; instead of just pulling myself to distant points, if I varied my angle and kept my momentum in mind I could use my power as a catapult, launching myself into the air above my intended target and increasing the distance I could travel.

A little ways to my left were the Docks, the poor part of town. I had considered going that way on my first excursion, but decided against it, mainly because of the architectural layout. Buildings in the Docks tended to be only one or two stories tall, and a lot of it was in disrepair. My power seemed like it would be strongest when there was a lot of vertical ground to cover, when I could be confident that the railing I was leaping to wouldn’t collapse under my feet.

Instead, I was headed downtown. It was bustling, the streets filled with people and lights. Storefronts crowded the sidewalks, and most of the buildings were absolutely massive. I managed to get five or six stories high, pulling myself from one building to another, and I stopped to catch my breath and consider my next move.

According to my watch, it was 11:47. Below me, a drunk couple staggered out of a bar and into a taxi. I watched as it drove them away. A few more crowds of people passed by, talking and laughing. A man dropped his sandwich on the sidewalk. An employee stepped out of a nearby deli, apron slung over his shoulder, and lit up a cigarette. The air was crisp- not cold, but cool, and on my high perch there wasn’t much coverage from the wind. The distant, muffled sound of house music came from somewhere down below. I shivered.

Finally- there. Skinheads, three of them. One with a swastika tattoo on his bare shoulder. Probably members of the local neo-nazi group, Empire Eighty-Eight. They were walking down the sidewalk with purpose in my direction. A dark-skinned woman in a long red coat passed them walking the opposite way, and one of them snarled something at her and spat on the ground. She hurried her pace, and luckily they didn’t turn to follow.

Where were they going?

I kept to the rooftops, staying a little ways behind them. With the city as crowded as it was, I had to be a bit more careful to be spotted, but luckily there were very few people hanging out on the tops of buildings, and those that were- mostly exhausted-looking people on cigarette breaks- I was able to avoid without trouble.

I was high, _high_ above the ground now. I had mostly practiced with my powers around my neighborhood, and even though I wasn’t afraid of heights, it was hard to suppress a little shudder of fear every time I flew across an open space, fifty feet or more above the street.

After a couple blocks, the skinheads abruptly turned down a side street, and then further into an alley, where they knocked on a side door near a dumpster. Away from the streetlights, it was hard for me to make out what they were doing. After a few seconds, the door opened, letting out a little bit of light. The nazis said something to someone inside, and were let in. The door shut behind them.

I took a minute to get my bearings. This was a much less busy part of the city; still plenty of cars going by, still plenty of people walking the streets; but fewer stores. It was mostly apartment buildings, including the one the skinheads had just been let into.

I pulled myself over to the roof and searched for an entrance. No doors, but there was a hatch by one of the corners, the metal badly rusted. No one ever came up here. I planted my feet, grabbed the handle, and hauled at the hatch for a few seconds with no luck. It must have been locked from the inside. I’d have to find a way to get inside.

Just as I was considering my best route back to street level, I sensed a presence suddenly materialize behind me. I jumped, and tried to move out of the way, but my assailant was faster, wrapping their arm around my throat and pressing something sharp and heavy into the side of my head.

“Don’t move,” she hissed, “Or I shoot.”

I didn’t move. I couldn’t get a clear look at what she was threatening me with, but I didn’t doubt that it was dangerous.

The sharp object prodded me, stinging and drawing a little blood. “Are you with the Empire?”

What was the right answer? Yes? No? If I said the wrong thing I’d probably die.

Her arm tightened around my throat, and it got harder to breathe. “Answer me,” she growled into my ear.

“No,” I gasped.

“Who are you?”

“A hero.” I swallowed.

“I’ve never seen you before.”

“It’s my first night out. I’m- hrgk-” she squeezed just a little bit tighter, cutting me off.

“Independent cape?”

I tried to respond positively, but the words wouldn’t come. I couldn’t breathe. If she didn’t let go I was going to pass out. After another second, she released me, shoving me forward as she did. I stumbled forward, almost falling off the edge, but managed to stop myself, then took a few deep, shuddering breaths and turned around to face her.

Body armor. A metal mask under a dark grey cape, blowing in the night wind. A crossbow, pointed straight at my chest. Shadow Stalker. She was shorter than I had expected, around my height, but still menacing. If she pulled that trigger, I wouldn’t be able to get out of the way in time.

“Name?” she growled. Something about her tone was familiar, but I wasn’t quite able to place it. It wasn’t good, though.

I was still breathing heavily. “T- fuck- Solenoid.”

She cocked her head to the side. I couldn’t see her face under her mask, but I had to assume she was frustrated. She lifted her crossbow a bit higher, pointing it in my face. “Shit name,” she said. The sound of her voice sent an inexplicable current of rage running through me, and my mind snapped into some kind of clarity.

“I saw three members of Empire Eighty Eight, and I followed them here. I think they have some kind of-”

“I know,” Shadow Stalker interrupted me. “I was following them too. And you.”

Guess I wasn’t being as stealthy as I thought.

Shadow Stalker finally stopped pointing her crossbow at me, letting her arm drop to her side. “I can handle this. Take your shitty costume and go join the Wards. And stay out of my fucking way.”

I blinked, then shook my head. “No.”

“Excuse me?”

“I’m not gonna join the Wards,” I said, “And I’m not gonna leave.”

Shadow Stalker took a sudden step towards me, getting right up in my face. Her hand was planted firmly on my chest, pushing me- not enough for me to fall, but close. I was suddenly very aware that I was standing on the edge of a building. _“Listen,”_ she said, her voice venomous, “If you go in there and get in my way and get yourself killed, do you know who’s gonna be fucking blamed for it? _Get out of here._ Go home.”

As she turned away walked toward the other side of the roof and my breathing settled, my fear drained away, to be replaced with anger. Who the hell did she think she was, to assault me and threaten me and tell me to just go home? To act like I was useless, weak, that I would only get in her way--

Before I even realized what I was doing, my left arm was outstretched, pointing at Shadow Stalker. The mark on the back of my hand burned, and Shadow Stalker’s crossbow was torn away from her and flew right into my waiting hand. She let out a startled shriek and spun around, already turning translucent. When she saw me standing there with a stunned look on my face, empty crossbow in my hand, she stared incredulously.

Then Shadow Stalker laughed, a horrible, cruel laugh, and it was a laugh I recognized.

I dropped the crossbow on the ground and stomped on it with a savagery I didn’t know I had in me, smashing it to pieces. Shadow Stalker’s-- _Sophia’s--_ body was transparent and lacked color and definition. It was loose around the edges, wispy like smoke. A living shadow. When she spoke, her voice sounded like I was hearing it while underwater. “You want to go, bitch?”

She drew a knife from her belt as she stalked towards me, brandishing it in my direction, and I took out my switchblade. She swung at me, only turning solid at the last second, but I grabbed her wrist out of the air and slashed at her, my blade scraping against her armor without doing any damage.

She melted away and dodged to the side, trying to get around me, but I kept her in my sights. My awareness was laser-focused. I could see every move she made, react to anything she did. She swung with her fist this time, trying to punch me out, but I dodged to the side and stabbed. My knife went through her armor this time, burying itself in her stomach, but before I had time to wrench it out she kneed me in the stomach and brought her own knife down toward my face. I managed to grab her wrist, holding her there for a second, but again she turned incorporeal, just for an instant, and cut a long slash down my face, leaving me to stumble away, dripping with blood. My switchblade clattered to the ground.

Shadow Stalker materialized again, breathing heavily this time. She grabbed at her stomach where I had stabbed her, grimacing in pain. I tried to distance myself, walking backwards as fast as I could towards the other end of the roof. There was blood in my left eye, obscuring my vision.

Growling, Shadow Stalker charged again, but this time I was far enough away to avoid her. I reached out my left arm, feeling for the edge of a nearby building, and allowed my power to pull me away, landing safely on a neighboring rooftop. I felt my face with my hand. Shadow Stalker’s knife had torn through my mask, leaving the bottom half of my face exposed. My hat was soaking with blood.

Realization hit me like a truck. My first night out as a hero, and I’d assaulted a Ward. That Ward might have been Sophia, but she was still a hero, and I’d stabbed her with a switchblade.

On the other roof, Shadow Stalker was staring at me silently. “Running away?” she called, mockingly. At the sound of her voice, my brain flooded with anger again, and it was all I could do to keep myself from jumping back over and trying to finish the job.

“I’m sorry,” I called back. It was hard to force the words out. "That was impulsive."

She laughed incredulously. “Sorry? You’re _sorry?_ You fucking cunt, I’ll _make_ you sorry.” And with that, she sprinted for the edge of the building, shifting into her shadow form and making a massive leap across the gap to me. As she landed, she reached behind her back, under her cape, and pulled out another crossbow.

Fuck.

Shadow Stalker pointed her weapon at me, and I ran. Her first shot missed me by a hair, passing just by my head. I jumped off the side of the building, towards the street. I heard another shot whistle by, but wasn’t quite able to see where it went.

Opposite me, there was another row of apartment buildings. A little bit below my level was a third-story apartment with a balcony overlooking the street. It was connected to the inside with a pair of sliding glass doors through which I could see light.

No time to think, just act. I pulled myself toward the balcony. My downward momentum was slowed, but not immediately stopped, and there was a sickening feeling in my stomach as I dipped down and then back up, rocketing for the balcony.

Something hit me in the shoulder, and there was a flash of pain, and suddenly I was spinning. Losing my bearings, unable to control my momentum, I bypassed the balcony entirely and went crashing through the glass doors, landing in a heap in someone’s living room. My head was ringing, and the world spun, but somehow I was still conscious. I stood up unsteadily. I was surrounded by people; mostly adults, most of them drinking wine. One of my glasses lens was gone, the other badly cracked.The TV was on in the background; a football game, I was pretty sure. Someone screamed.

Then Shadow Stalker landed on the balcony, cape billowing behind her. The partygoers started to run, fleeing the room. My vision swam. My right arm didn’t seem to want to move. With my left hand, I felt for my shoulder, where I discovered a crossbow bolt half-buried in me, its tail broken off and leaving only a jagged edge.

“You broke the one I use for non-lethal bolts,” Shadow Stalker said. Her voice sounded like it was coming from very far away. “Didn’t leave me any options.”

The TV behind me was big, and flat-screen, and probably very heavy. I turned a bit to my left, shuffling away from Shadow Stalker while making sure to keep the television on my functioning side. Shadow Stalker trained me with her crossbow, her eyes narrowed-- then stopped.

“No fucking way.”

I interposed myself directly between Shadow Stalker and the TV. I had to time this just right.

_“Taylor?”_

Oh. Right. My mask was gone.

“Sophia,” I panted. My voice was a bit slurred. I probably had a concussion.

“You pathetic bitch,” Sophia said, and her voice was filled with hatred.

She fired the crossbow. I _pulled,_ and dove to the floor.

The TV sailed over my head, straight at Shadow Stalker, just as she shifted back to her physical form so that her bolt could hit me. From the floor, I heard a crash, and the shattering of glass, and then, a bit more than a second later, a car alarm. Woozy, I got to my feet. No Shadow Stalker. The night air called. Covering my face with my hands so no one could see me, I walked out to the balcony and looked down.

A broken, badly bent flat-screen TV lay in the middle of the street. Sophia’s limp body lay on top of a car, the roof partially caved in. Alarms were blaring. People were shouting. Someone saw me, and pointed, and yelled something I didn’t understand.

I ran.

# \---

I managed to get to a quiet part of town, flitting from rooftop to rooftop at first and then staying closer to the ground, where I couldn’t be seen from the air, and wound up curled up in an alley behind a dumpster, out of sight. It wasn’t as far away as I would have liked, and the smell left something to be desired, but it was the best I could do given as much pain as I was in.

I took off my hat and mask, pulled out my first aid kit, and tried to apply ointment to the cut on my face. Luckily, it wasn’t too deep, and much smaller than I thought it was, but it still stung. I put some gauze and bandages on it. My vision was obscured, but it had been anyway, and this was better than having blood dripping down my face.

My shoulder was a bigger problem. I could still move my right arm, a bit, but it hurt badly when I did. I didn’t even feel safe trying to remove the crossbow bolt lodged in there. Gauze, disinfectant, and bandages seemed woefully inadequate, but it was the best I could do. Luckily, it didn’t hurt that badly.

Finally, I pulled off my bloody shirt and jacket, changed into the sweatshirt I’d put in my bag, and finally took a deep breath.

What had I done?

I had no idea where in Brockton Bay I was, and no way to get home. I’d only been able to travel as quickly as I did because of my power, and even if I wasn’t too exhausted to move another inch my costume was a mess and there would be capes out looking for me soon, if there weren’t already. I needed medical care, urgently-- my enhanced physical capabilities were probably the only reason I was still conscious, or even alive-- but if I went to a hospital with a crossbow bolt lodged in my shoulder I’d be identified as the girl who- who--

Oh, God. Oh God. Had I killed Shadow Stalker?

No. Don’t think like that. I didn’t know for sure. She might not be dead.

_\--her limp body three stories down, a car alarm blaring--_

I shook my head. I needed to think.

My hand unconsciously went to my forehead, touching the bandage over where Shadow Stalker had cut me, and I winced, expecting it to hurt. It didn’t. Curious, I prodded at it a bit more, then pulled the bandage off. The cut was still there, but even smaller than it had been before, and it no longer bled. Somehow, my body had some kind of advanced healing ability.

Already feeling better, I pulled off my sweatshirt and removed the bandages on my shoulder to check it again. It was a nasty wound, and it hurt like hell, but it wasn’t scary anymore.

I fished my other shirt out of my bag, wrapped it up, and bit down on the fabric. A bit of my own blood got in my mouth, but right now wasn’t the time to care. With my left hand, I carefully reached over to my right shoulder, got as much of a grip on the bolt as I could, and ripped it out.

_“MMFRGKKHHH!”_ I howled obscenities into my wadded up shirt, but thankfully the sound was muffled. Blood started gushing out of the hole in my shoulder, and I hurriedly applied more gauze and bandages, using up what was left of my stock. For a few minutes, I felt woozy, like I was going to pass out, but at some point my head cleared.

So I had a healing factor I didn’t know about. It worked slowly, too slowly to matter in actual combat, but it was something to keep in mind for the future.

If I had a future.

I poured about half the water I was carrying over my head and let my hair down, trying my best to wash any blood out, then, after a minute of deliberation, stuffed my backpack in the dumpster. There was a risk of it somehow being connected to me, but that would be better than being caught with it in my hands. I had no ID, no money, and I would have to dispose of the ruined clothes anyway. Better to do it as far away from my house as possible.

Finally, I stepped out into the street and started to walk home.

As if it wasn’t enough that I might have become a murderer, it started to rain.

# \---

It was almost 4 AM by the time I got home. Practically asleep on my feet, I pulled myself up to my still-open window and crawled into bed with my clothes still on.

I slept until noon the next day, and for the first time in months I didn’t dream.


	2. Far Reach 1.2

On Monday at school Sophia was nowhere to be found.

I had been keeping up with the news and checking regularly on cape message boards since Saturday night, looking for news about Shadow Stalker, but had found no useful information. There was a blurry picture of her lying on top of a broken car floating around the internet, and a few threads of people speculating on what could have happened to her, but nothing solid.

There was nothing about me that I could find: most forum posters were guessing that Shadow Stalker had been in conflict with an established villain, or even that she’d turned against the Wards and had been fighting one of them. No news about an independent cape with a crappy bargain-bin costume. And given that PRT officers hadn’t already come to my house to arrest me, I had to assume that Sophia hadn’t revealed my secret identity.

I didn’t know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

Without her stronger friend around, Emma seemed a bit lost, and for once she mostly left me alone. I didn’t know how long it had been since I was able to eat lunch in peace, but it was a blessing.

When school ended, I left as quickly as possible, not wanting to risk a chance meeting, and made my way down to the Boardwalk.

The Boardwalk was busy as ever. It was one of the most vibrant parts of town, thriving with good views and good food, and it was a hot spot for tourists. It was a good place to go if you wanted to avoid being alone with your thoughts, and I did.

I wandered from one end of the Boardwalk to another, people-watching and staring at the bay. It was a familiar enough sight to me, but there were constantly people from out of town oohing and ahhing at it, and occasionally I still found the view striking. Not today, though. The crystal blue waters and the vague shapes of mountains in the distance didn’t even come close to lifting my mood. It was prettiest at sunset, anyway.

There was a huge line in front of Fugly Bob’s, same as there always was, but today I couldn’t handle waiting in line. I went to some cheap deli I would never remember the name of instead, a hole-in-the-wall place without even indoor seating, where I bought something greasy and disgusting that would probably take years off my life.

I found a spot that was both relatively clear of people and had shade-- a Herculean task that took nearly half an hour. It was a tiny little park near the edge of the Boardwalk, sandwiched between three different buildings, away from all the shops, and without a clear view of the water. I sat down on a little bench under a tree and started to enjoy my sandwich.

Someone had carved their initials into the tree, and I could see it from where I sat. _KB+SN 4EVR_ , circled by a heart. Cute.

I had finished about half my meal when I noticed the girl.

She was leaning against the side of a building on the edge of the park nearest the water, blocking the only exit, and staring at me. She was standing in shadow, so I couldn’t get a clear view of her, but she didn’t seem to care that I had seen her.

I put down my sandwich. I didn’t say anything. I didn’t move. After a long silence, the girl shrugged and stepped out into the sunlight. She was pretty, with long blond hair and freckles, and she had her hands in her pockets. She smiled. “You passed me about three times while you were pacing back and forth. You seemed pretty down. I’m Lisa.”

Still hesitant, it took me a little while to reply. “Taylor.”

Lisa stopped a couple feet in front of me and bent down, scrutinizing me. I leaned away. Her eyes had a disarming glint to them. It felt like she was seeing a lot more when she looked at me than when I looked at her. “Something going on, Taylor?”

I shook my head. Lisa raised an eyebrow. I shrugged and leaned a bit to the left, hoping I would be able to stand up and shuffle past her, but she leaned with me.

Lisa looked down, dark eyelashes fluttering, and looked pointedly at my left hand. At the black mark on it that had come with my powers. “I like your tattoo, Taylor. Where’d you get it done?”

Thankfully, before I had the chance to answer, a male voice called her name from the park entrance: a tall, muscular guy, dark-skinned and attractive. Her boyfriend? “Lisa! We don’t have time for this. We need to go.”

Lisa rolled her eyes, then winked at me. “Sorry to leave so soon, Taylor. We’ll have to chat again sometime. You seem interesting.” She brushed her hand on mine as she stood up, and I instinctively flinched away. The mark felt hot.

Lisa and the guy with her walked out of sight and were gone. After a few minutes, when I finally felt comfortable that they weren’t coming back, I was able to relax. I took a few more bites of my sandwich, but it didn’t taste as good as it had before. I threw what was left in the garbage and caught a bus home.

# \---

It was the first story when I checked the news that night. _Shadow Stalker Comatose After Encounter With Villain._ I stared at the headline for a few seconds, nervous, then finally clicked through.

Shadow Stalker was in a coma at Brockton Bay Hospital, being overseen by a staff of nurses. She was in stable condition, but unlikely to wake soon, if ever. I was only described as an “unknown villain.” No reference to my powers, my costume, anything. “The PRT are searching for the assailant,” the article declared, but I could tell they had nothing.

I had gotten away.

I stared at the screen for two minutes, nausea curdling in my stomach, before I realized I was shaking. I had to keep myself from laughing.

Sophia wasn’t dead. If nothing else, I wasn’t a murderer. And the only way anyone would ever know what I’d done was if she woke up. I was safe. I hadn’t killed anyone. I felt like crying.

# \---

I woke up at 6 AM the next morning from another night of bad dreams and got dressed for my morning run. My dad was still asleep-- in his room, for once, not on the couch-- and I took care not to wake him before his 6:15 alarm. As silently as I could, I opened the front door, pulled it shut behind me, and locked it, then turned around.

There was a blond-haired girl leaning against my mailbox, a wicked grin on her face. “Morning, Taylor!” Lisa called. “You always get up this early?”

She waved at me, then gently tapped the side of her face with her finger, revealing the back of her hand to me.

She had the same mark that I did.

# \---

“You’ve seen him, right?” Lisa asked. “The man with black eyes?” It was a little after 6. We were sitting on the windowsill of a shop that had yet to open. Someone had installed some kind of anti-homeless spikes on it but they were already bent badly out of shape when we arrived, and Lisa had just snorted and threw down her jacket.

I hesitated before answering, but nodded. “Yeah.”

“It was about a month ago for me,” Lisa said. “I actually had powers already. He appeared in my dreams one night and the next day I woke up with this.” She held up her hand, showing me the black mark. It was identical to mine. “He called himself the Outsider.”

“For me, it was a couple months ago,” I replied. “Did he give you any new powers?”

“Just one.” Lisa grinned. “I can see through walls now, can sense where other people are around me. It’s sort of like everyone has this subtle yellow glow. Parahumans, it’s a little different; redder, more vibrant. And then I saw you.”

“And?”

“Nothing. Nothing at all. No glow, no light; if I hadn’t been able to see you with my own eyes, I wouldn’t have had any idea you were there. You’re immune to my powers of perception. That’s why I followed you.”

I looked at the mark on the back of my hand.

“Listen,” Lisa said, “I want us to work this out, to figure out what happened to us, because it’s somehow different from normal parahumans, but I can’t do that unless we trust each other. I know something’s going on with you besides just the mark. Can you tell me what it is?”

“No.”

“Why not?”

I shook my head. Someone walked by on the other side of the street, wearing headphones and staring at the ground. They didn’t take any notice of us. Besides them, we were alone.

Lisa sighed. “Okay, here. I’ll open up first. The power I had before the mark is a Thinker power. It lets me know things others don’t, make connections most people can’t. And do you know what it’s telling me about you?”

I didn’t reply.

“It’s telling me that you’re scared. That you feel guilty, of something, I don’t know what, but it’s something bad. You’re scared of it being traced back to you.”

I stiffened. My hand dropped down to my side. I couldn’t meet Lisa’s eyes, so I just stared at my feet, at my double-knotted running shoes. I was wearing the same pants I’d had on the night I--

“But you’re not _ashamed._ ”

I looked up.

“You know what you did was wrong, but you don’t regret doing it. Actually, you’re glad you did it. Even if you don’t want to admit that to yourself.”

“I don’t--”

“It felt good, right?”

I finally turned to her, opening my mouth to protest, but her expression wasn’t smug. After a moment’s silence, I let out a little sigh. “Yes.”

“Who did you do it to? Was it someone you knew?”

“I--”

“It doesn’t matter if you tell me the truth, I’ll know either way.”

I bristled. “I don’t want--”

“Was it a he or a she?”

My fists clenched. I was going to get caught. I was going to get punished and imprisoned, maybe even sent to the Birdcage and--

“Did you kill her?”

“No.”

“What did you do to her?”

I could stand up, I realized. I could just stand up and walk away. But she knew. She already knew. If I didn’t want anyone to find out I would have to kill her and I couldn’t do that. But if I had no other options...

Lisa laid a hand on my shoulder. “Taylor, it’s okay. I’m not going to tell anybody. I don’t work for the Protectorate. I’m not a Ward. I don’t want to get you in trouble. I’m an independent, I-- oh, hell-- a villain. I don’t care what you did. You can tell me.”

“You’re a villain?”

Lisa sighed. “I’m not evil, Taylor. Most of us aren’t. Just in a bad situation. I promise it’s okay. I’m not gonna tell anyone and I’m not gonna hurt you.”

I wasn’t sure why, but I believed her. I took a deep breath. “It was Shadow Stalker. I got in a fight with her, and I… I knocked her out. Threw her out of a window. In self-defense. She went to my school. Before I was a cape, she used to torture me, hurt me, and I met Shadow Stalker and then I realized it was her. She’s in a coma now. But she knows who I am. My real name. And if she ever wakes up, she’ll tell them.”

Lisa blew air out of her mouth. “Whew. That’s a lot.”

I nodded. My hands were shaking, and I tried to still them.

“Taylor,” Lisa said, clearly weighing her words carefully, “A lot of the people I work with have stories like yours. Heroes taking advantage of them, hurting them. Being blamed for things that weren’t their fault, that they only did in retaliation or because they were forced. They understand what you’re going through.”

I was breathing a little bit easier now. A car drove by, and then another. Across the street, someone unlocked the door to a shop and stepped inside.

Lisa put a hand on my shoulder, gently. I finally looked her in the eyes. They were warm, and kind. “Do you want to meet them?” she asked.

“Your teammates?”

She nodded.

I should say no, I knew that. But she was so honest and open, so compassionate. And Shadow Stalker had been a Ward. The PRT had protected her, kept her from having any consequences for her actions. They had let that psychopath fight for them.

Fuck it. “Okay,” I said.

Lisa smiled brightly, and she seemed genuinely happy. My heart warmed a little bit more. “How would you like to skip school today?”

# \---

Lisa’s team-- the Undersiders, she called them-- operated from a base in the Docks. It wasn’t that long a walk from my house, but she took the chance to tell me a bit about the people she’d be introducing me to. Grue, a darkness manipulator; Regent, who messed with people’s nervous systems; and Bitch, who commanded monster dogs. Lisa’s cape name was Tattletale. “What’s yours?” she asked.

I scratched the back of my neck. “I was thinking of going with Solenoid, but I might rethink that.”

Lisa shrugged. “Well, you’ve got time.”

While we were walking, Lisa took out her phone and shot off a text. A few seconds later, it buzzed.

“That them?” I asked.

“Yep.” The phone buzzed again. “I’m letting them know I’m bringing you.”

“Is it okay?”

“Mentioned you took out Shadow Stalker. Brian seems excited to meet you. Is it alright if I tell them you’re a villain?”

“I’m--”

“I know you aren’t, it just makes things simpler if I say you are. Less to explain.”

“Sure.” It wasn’t like it mattered much anyway.

“Fantastic. Fair warning: When Bitch wakes up, she’ll probably be a bit cranky. She doesn’t like new people. Just ignore her.”

The Undersiders’ hideout was in an old factory in one of the more decrepit parts of town. The area around was mostly deserted, save the occasional homeless person, and the smell wasn’t as bad as I would have expected: less like sewer water, more like dust and oil and concrete. A staircase inside the building, accessed through a side door, led up past the rusted hulks of old machinery to a second-floor loft.

“Here we are,” Lisa said, pushing the door open. “Home sweet home.”

It was a large space, but not an open one; shelves lined the walls, while couches and tables and a massive TV system clogged the floor. On one wall, I could see a collection of doors, a few of them hanging open, into what looked like living spaces. There was an artificial pine scent in the air, mixed with something a lot more enticing. I sniffed. “Is someone cooking bacon?”

Lisa grinned. “Brian! Our guest is here!”

At the far end of the loft, the young man Lisa had been with when I first met her stepped out from behind a wall. He wore well-fitting casual clothes, and had a greasy spatula in his hand. “Perfect timing. I was just making breakfast. Eggs and bacon. There’s enough for five, but Alec and Rachel are taking their time waking up, so it’ll probably just be the three of us.”

I nodded. What was the right way to respond when an attractive supervillain offered you breakfast? “Thank you.”

Brian held the spatula up to his forehead like he was saluting, a warm smile on his face. “My pleasure.”

Her hand on my shoulders, Lisa guided me to one of the couches and practically pushed me down into it, then flopped down next to me and kicked her feet up on a table crowded with empty pizza boxes and soda cans. “If we’re going to figure these marks out, we’ll need to do some looking into things. Mind sharing your power?”

I hesitated. Lisa rolled her eyes. “Come on. I showed you mine, now you show me yours.”

“I pull things. Or, I pull myself to things.” I reached for one of the soda cans and pulled. It flew into my outstretched hand, and I crumpled it up and tossed it into the nearest trash bin. “I got some secondary powers, too. I’m stronger, faster, and I have a healing factor. I can jump about five feet into the air, probably more if I keep practicing. And I have this vague awareness of my surroundings. I’m not sure if I’m actually able to sense other people, or if my brain just got better at processing information, but I have an approximate idea of the people around me at any given time.”

“No flight, though?”

I shook my head. “With the pulling power I can get around in the air pretty fast, but it depends on my surroundings. Definitely not flight.”

Lisa sat quietly for a few seconds, brooding, and rubbed her temples with her fingers. “Nope. My power’s not giving me anything. Need more information.”

“There must be other people who’ve gotten this mark, right? There’s no way it’s just the two of us.”

“I’ve been keeping an eye out, but I haven’t seen it anywhere else. You’re right, though. There are others, and we should try to find them.” Suddenly, Lisa sat up and leaned in closer to me. “I’m about to get really serious, Taylor, so please hear me out fully before you say anything. Okay?”

“Okay.”

Lisa cleared her throat. “Not to put too fine a point on it, but you’re in deep shit. You assaulted a Ward and did a couple thousand dollars’ worth of property damage, then split before you could explain yourself to anyone. Shadow Stalker is comatose because of you. The heroes don’t know who you are right now, but when they find out they’re not gonna be inclined to view the situation very reasonably. You need help.”

I waited, but Lisa wasn’t talking. She was watching me intently, waiting for me to speak. “What are you suggesting?”

“You need help, and I need your help to figure out what the hell the deal is with these marks. We can help each other. Join the Undersiders.”

“I’m not a villain.”

Lisa gave me a sympathetic smile. “After what you did to Shadow Stalker, people are going to view you as one no matter what you do.”

“That was self defense.”

Lisa folded her arms, not taking her eyes off me. They were piercing, probing eyes, and they made me antsy. “When Shadow Stalker wakes up, what do you think she’s going to say happened to her?”

_A girl from my school named Taylor Hebert showed up on a roof while I was trailing some Empire Eighty-Eight goons, smashed my crossbow, and stabbed me in the stomach. When I went after her, she broke into someone’s apartment, threw their TV at me, and I fell three stories down to the street._

If it was Sophia’s story against mine, they’d believe her, and I wouldn’t even have the truth on my side.

“I do need help,” I admitted. Lisa’s gaze softened. “I’m not saying I’ll join you, but… I’ll work with you.”


	3. Far Reach 1.3

I ended up being two hours late to school, and had to sign in at the main office. The woman behind the desk looked exhausted as she boredly declared I’d have to stay in detention after classes were done and signed my hall pass. I walked into geometry class half an hour late, keeping as quiet as I could. I tried to take notes, but the blackboard, and the front of the class, looked strangely blurry; I looked at my hands, one of them bandaged up like I’d been injured, and their edges wavered and glowed.

I took my glasses off, and my eyes adjusted. Everything came into focus; my hands, my notes, the front of the classroom. I took a look out the window, at the trees outside, and was shocked by how many leaves I could see, fluttering gently in the breeze.

I knew no one would notice, but I didn’t want to attract attention. I put my glasses back on, for the moment at least. I’d stop wearing them tomorrow, and if anyone asked (not that they would) I’d say I’d gotten contacts.

Letting my glasses slip down my nose a bit and leaning forward, I wasn’t quite able to see the front of the class, but I could see my notebook. Rather than focusing on the lecture, I busied myself sketching out costume ideas.

It felt like my hand was working on its own, calling up ideas conjured from another plane. The image I drew wasn’t of myself with a mask, but with a scarf wrapped around my face, edges decorated with ornate golden trimming. Over one of my eyes was a device, seemingly welded into my skin; blocky and polygonal, composed of triangular pieces of metal welded together, with a glassy lens for an eye. Beneath the image, I wrote one word: _Solenoid._

_“I like it,”_ a dark voice whispered in my ear. I jumped, spinning around. The man from my dreams stood behind me, leaning in, black eyes boring into me. The world around me was frozen in time; every single person in class was completely still and silent. The leaves on the trees were motionless.

“Who are you?” I whispered.

The man ignored me, instead raising an arm and pointing at the word I had just written. _“Except for that. I don’t like that. May I?”_

Before I could even think to respond, my notebook was in his hands and my pen had been lifted into the air, out of my grasp. He took it and tapped it on his chin, then wrote something down that I couldn’t see. _“Better.”_

I cleared my throat and spoke again, louder this time. “What’s going on?”

The man chuckled. _“All in due time, Taylor.”_

I snatched my notebook back from him. He didn’t seem to mind.

_“As for who I am,”_ he said, gently handing me my pen, _“You can call me The Outsider.”_

Then he was gone, and time started moving again. The wind blew, classmates whispered, the teacher droned on. Shivering a little, I looked down at the paper I was holding. The word ‘Solenoid’ was crossed out, and a new word was written under it, in perfect cursive:

_Empress._

# \---

Lisa stared at the notebook, tracing the lines my pen had drawn with her finger. “And you said you aren’t an artist?”

“I’ve never been able to draw anything more complicated than stick figures.”

Lisa’s finger halted over the word at the bottom, and she tapped the picture, looking concerned. “This doesn’t look like a stick figure, Taylor.”

It didn’t; the picture was impeccably shaded, and drawn in a rough, intentionally angular style. The only part of it that looked like it had come from me was the single crossed-out word.

“He must be some kind of Master/Trump, right?” I asked. “If he’s able to give other people powers and talk to them in their heads. Like Teacher, but… weirder.”

“But you said he stopped time for the entire room,” Lisa said.

“Maybe it was a trick of perception.”

Lisa blew air out of her nose. Her foot was tapping intensely on the ground. “Unless you’re lying, he stopped time long enough to be able to write this, and I could tell if you were lying. That… that _shouldn’t_ be something a parahuman is able to do. That would instantly make him a class-S threat.”

“Maybe he’s flown under the radar,” I suggested. “Using his powers for small things so he won’t draw attention.”

“He’s not a parahuman,” Lisa said, after a few long moments of silence. “I was confident before, but I’m totally sure now. He isn’t like us. He’s something else.”

“Then what is he?”

Lisa shook her head. “I have no idea.”

I took the notebook from her, storing it in my bag. My glasses were in there too, somewhere in the bottom, and I had to be careful not to crush them. Lisa sat back, stretching her arms. We were in the Undersiders’ hangout, on one of the couches. Across from us was Alec, Regent when in costume, a teenager with curly black hair. He had a video game controller in his hands, and was playing something on the TV involving killstreaks and men with guns. He had barely acknowledged me when I arrived, which I was perfectly happy with.

“Hey, Alec,” Lisa called. “Do you know when Bitch is getting back?”

“No,” was Alec’s only response. He didn’t even look up.

“Rachel’s out on a walk with her dogs,” Lisa explained to me. “I told her you were here earlier, and she knows to expect you, so she shouldn’t be too aggressive, but…”

“I’ll be fine,” I said. “I can handle myself.”

Lisa nodded, but she didn’t look too sure. “It might be a good idea for you to go home soon anyway, Taylor. We’re going out tonight.”

“Shouldn’t she come?” Alec asked. I didn’t even realize he’d been listening. “If she’s joining us and all.”

“She’s not joining us,” Lisa said. “She working with us. There’s a difference.”

On the TV, a man’s head erupted in a cloud of gore. “Seems to me like if she’s gonna be spending time here and getting our help she should get her hands dirty.”

Lisa sighed. “You just met me today, Taylor. I’m not going to ask you to put yourself at risk.”

I sensed that she wanted me to leave it there, but I was too curious. “What’s happening tonight?”

“Big orgy,” Alec said. “Us and all the other villain gangs.”

Lisa rolled her eyes. “There’s a rival group that’s gunning for us. We want to hit them before they get the chance to take us down.”

“What group?”

“The ABB.”

“That’s Lung’s gang.”

“Yep.”

“You’re going to fight _Lung?”_

“If we’re lucky. If we’re not lucky, we’ll be fighting Lung, as well as Bakuda, Oni Lee, and all their gun-toting flunkies.”

I shook my head, the words not quite registering. “That… but… you could die.”

“They won’t kill us,” Lisa said. “They just want to teach us a lesson.”

“She’s lying,” Alec butted in, “They’re totally gonna kill us.”

Lisa shot him a look. “Like I was _saying,_ I’m not going to ask you to put yourself at risk, Taylor. You barely know me.”

The words were out of my mouth before I had even thought them. “I’ll help.”

On the TV screen, Alec’s character got shot. “Fuck,” he swore, as a computerized voice informed him that his killstreak had ended.

“You don’t have to--” Lisa began, but I cut her off, again barely registering the words as I spoke them.

“Alec is right. If I’m going to accept help from you, I ought to pull my weight. Especially if you’ll be in danger.”

It was at that exact moment that the door slammed open, and Rachel walked in, three large dogs in front of her. She was a tall, muscular girl, with short, messy hair, and the scowl she gave me was intense enough I felt the urge to back away. She scanned me up and down, lip curled, baring her canines. “This is her?”

“Hi,” I managed to say. “I’m Taylor. You must be Rachel.”

“Bitch,” she spat. Her dogs were straining at their leashes, like they wanted to jump me, but she held them back. She lifted her gaze to Lisa. “I’m going to my room.”

Lisa nodded, and Bitch stalked away. Her door slammed shut behind her.

“Sorry about her,” Lisa said.

“It’s okay.” _I hadn’t expected supervillains to be nice in the first place._

“So,” Alec said, tossing his controller aside as the match finished, “If you’re gonna be fighting with us in costume, what’s your cape name?”

“She doesn’t have one yet,” Lisa said.

“No, I do.” Lisa raised an eyebrow, and I took a deep breath. _Solenoid._

“Empress,” I said, and Alec grinned and gave me a thumbs up.

# \---

The costume I put together with the help of the Undersiders wasn’t much better than the last one, but they were at least able to fit me with a little body armor. I wore it under an old hoodie of Lisa’s that I borrowed, dark purple, with a pair of black pants she said she’d never worn. Brian helped me tie a black scarf around my face to cover my mouth, and I flipped the hoodie up so that only my eyes were visible. It wasn’t exactly pretty, but it was functional.

The rest of the Undersiders were much more stylish by comparison. As Grue, Brian dressed up in a dark leather outfit, with a mask covering his face that looked like a skull. Regent had on stylish, archaic-looking clothes along with a Venetian mask and crown. Tattletale was the most striking; she had on a skintight, dark-purple and black outfit with a black domino mask, her blonde hair falling around her face.

Only Bitch’s outfit looked as thrown together as mine. She wore a heavy jacket with a fur-lined collar over a muscle tank, and a cheap plastic mask in the shape of a growling dog’s face.

“Don’t worry,” Regent assured me as we headed out, clapping me on the shoulder, “If you survive and keep working with us you’ll get paid enough to buy the nicest outfit you can imagine.”

We traveled at night, across the rooftops. I had texted my dad, letting him know I’d be spending the night at a friend’s house, then left my phone back at the Undersiders’ hideout along with my bag. Rachel had demonstrated her power, transforming her dogs-- Brutus, Judas, and Angelica-- into hulking, monstrous beasts, covered in spikes and spurs of bone. The rest of the Undersiders rode on their backs as they leaped from building to building.

For my part, though, I was able to keep up just running alongside them. Leaping from building to building and using my power to slingshot me forward, I actually moved faster than the rest; I was forced to slow down to keep pace.

We were headed for the Docks, hoping to run into some ABB gang members, but the streets were mostly quiet. After around half an hour of fruitless searching, I saw Tattletale tap Bitch on the shoulder, and she signaled for the dogs to stop. We were on top of an old warehouse, surrounded by abandoned tenements.

“What’s going on?” Grue asked, hopping down to the roof. “Where are they?”

“I don’t know,” Tattletale responded. “The ABB are usually out in force around this time.”

“I don’t like this,” Bitch said. “We shouldn’t be here.”

I was going to ask her what she meant, but that was when I heard the gunshot. It rang out, terrifyingly loud, and time slowed to a crawl. I spun my head around, so slowly it felt like I was moving through molasses, just in time to see the muzzle flash on top of the tenement across the street. The bullet carved through the air, headed downward. It was moving towards Rachel.

I didn’t have time to yell a warning, couldn’t move, but I could use my power. Directing my attention to Bitch, I imagined we were held together by a rubber band, stretched to its limit, and that it was snapping back to its original shape.

Time started moving again. Bitch was flung off her dog and in my direction, and I caught her out of the air at the same time the bullet slammed into the roof of the warehouse. The Undersiders reacted straight away, leaping into action; Grue summoned shadows from nothing, cloaking us in darkness, while Tattletale and Regent dove to the ground. Brutus stood in front of us, blocking the bullets, while Judas and Angelica leapt up to the other roof.

“Let go of me!” Bitch snarled, and I did, just as another bullet whizzed past my head. I hid behind Brutus with the others, gasping for breath. There were several more gunshots, then nothing.

Tattletale was rambling. “They led us into a trap. Made sure we’d hear they had plans for us, then lay in wait for us so they’d be ready when we arrived. They must have had lookouts that we missed to tell them when we got close. Shit.”

“What do we do now?” I asked.

A singsong-y voice that sounded like it had passed through a modulation filter floated through the air. “Oh, _Undersiders…”_

Tattletale blanched, and I saw Grue tense up. “Bakuda,” he said, as quietly as he could.

“Oh, _Undersiders,_ I know where you _aaa-are…”_

“We need to go now,” Tattletale said. She sounded scared. _“Now.”_

The sound of the explosions hit me first, then the concussive waves rippling through the building. The roof of the warehouse was crumbling beneath us, the walls blown out. I scrambled for purchase as the previously flat plane I had been sitting on turned diagonal. Grue, Bitch, and Tattletale were already holding onto Brutus, and Grue grabbed onto Regent, and Brutus jumped. Tattletale reached for me, trying to pull me up, but wasn’t fast enough; the monster dog was sailing through the air, and I was the only one left behind. The support fell out from under me, and something heavy and hard slammed into my head, and I tasted blood. Dizzy, I reached out for something, anything, and felt myself flying up into the air as another explosion sounded beneath me.

For a second, I had lost all sense of direction, then suddenly I saw myself flying over a building, tumbling through the air, and narrowly managed to land on my feet. The impact was heavy enough to hurt, badly, and if I hadn’t had my powers it would have broken my legs.

I was disoriented; there was no sign of the Undersiders around me, and I wasn’t sure how many blocks I had traveled or what direction I had gone in. The thought crossed my mind, briefly, that Bitch had left me behind, but I had more important things to think about right now. I had to get away.

I heard another gunshot, and ducked, but it wasn’t aimed at me. Spurred into action, I sprinted for the edge of the building and leapt off, already pulling myself to the next one.

I never made it. Halfway across the gap, something slammed into me from the side, sending me spiraling. Desperately trying to correct my trajectory, I managed to land on an old fire escape. The impact was hard, and knocked the wind out of me, and I lay there for a second, my head spiraling. Then there was a crash, and everything shook, and I heard the creaking sound of bending metal. I scrambled to my feet and looked out over the railing, below me. One flight down, there was someone hanging by one hand from the fire escape. As I watched, he pulled himself up and over, and his face turned towards me.

He was a tall man, with the kind of muscle you usually only saw on TV, and a steel mask carved to resemble an Oriental dragon. He wore no shirt, and his arms and chest were covered with ornate dragon tattoos. This was Lung, the leader of the ABB.

I didn’t think I wanted to stick around. Before he got the chance to climb up to me, I leapt from the fire escape and pulled myself to the ceiling of the next building again, then started sprinting. Before I made it to the edge, he tackled me from behind, pinning me to the ground-- how the _hell_ was he so fast?-- and put his hand on the back of my head, holding it down.

“Who are you?” he growled. His voice didn’t sound quite human.

My arms tensed, and I pushed upward, throwing him off of me. We both rose to our feet at the same time, and then we were standing across from one another, maybe five feet apart. Lung already looked larger than when I had first seen him; he’d grown at least an inch, and dark metal scales were creeping across his body. This was his power; the longer he fought, the more he’d transform. I didn’t think I was strong enough to take him on _now,_ much less later; this wasn’t a fight I could win, but with his speed, and with however many ABB members he had on his side, I couldn’t escape either.

“Are you with the Undersiders?” he asked me. I looked around for something, anything, that I could use as a weapon, but the roof was empty. The knife I’d been carrying on my first night out wasn’t with me.

“If you don’t answer me I’ll kill you right now.”

I took a deep breath. “My name is Empress. I’m not with the Undersiders.”

“You lie.”

My mind raced, trying to find some combination of words that would let me get out alive. “I owed them a favor, and they needed help. But they just left me here to die, so I don’t owe them anything anymore.”

Lung took a step toward me. Sharp claws extended from each fingertip. I needed something more.

“I’ve been to their base,” I blurted out. Lung stopped. I could see his eyes behind his mask, tinted orange; he looked intrigued. Swallowing, trying to keep my voice from trembling, I continued. “I can take you there.”


End file.
